


Casting Shadows

by evilleaper



Series: Dark Shadows over Time [8]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M, Pre Dark Shadows over Time series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilleaper/pseuds/evilleaper
Summary: One of Al's fellow prisoners pays the price for his mistake but can he live with the consequences? Pre Dark Shadows Over Time.
Relationships: Al Calavicci/Original Character(s)
Series: Dark Shadows over Time [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/331705





	Casting Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes places in the minutes before Dark Shadows over Time and is told from Al's POV. Not new, just new to AO3.
> 
> Disclaimer: Al belongs to Bellisario and universal. No infringement to copyright intended. Commander Tran and other new characters along and the idea for this story and the "Dark Shadows over Time series" belong to me. 
> 
> Thanks: To beta readers, PJ & Carol W for their time, input and patience.

\----*----

It was going to rain again soon.  


Thunder rolled and strips of lightning lit the sky outside, illuminating the interior of the hut through its open doorway and casting yet another luminescent shroud of ghostly proportions over those in my direct line of sight.  


"Fucking bastards." I mutter under my breath, now watching in something akin to disbelief as the two guards that had originally come for me turn their attention on the kid sitting a few feet away.  


Weapons lowered and pointed at his head, Private Jeffery Marsh appeared as stunned as I felt at that moment as I along with the other occupants of the hut then watched him reluctantly comply with the order to get up and be dragged unceremoniously in the direction of the exit.  


"Leave him alone," I call out. I am reacting purely on instinct as I rise to my own feet without giving any real thought to what I planned to do beyond that.  


Everything felt suddenly surreal, impossible in a world where I know there is no such thing. Absolutely everything, I have discovered over the past months, including my worst nightmares can and does come true at regular intervals in this hellhole, and nothing, is in fact impossible.  


I waver where I stand, my mind spiralling in self-defeating circles of responsibility and blame. My heart pounding at an increased rate of knots, barely keeping up with the rush of adrenaline, which is now coursing through my body. My vision coming in and out of focus as I literally struggle to stay upright on legs that feel very much like they are made of rubber. This can't be happening I tell myself, even though I can see that it is. The two guards have the kid in hand, their decision already made, and taking him away from them is not going to happen without a fight.  


"What's he done?" Someone asks. Their words breaching the very edge of my consciousness.  


"Where are you taking?" Says another, breaking my train of thought for the time being, reminding me that I am not alone and above all else, I needed to pull myself together.  


I can feel all their eyes on me in the semi darkness of the hut as each of my fellow prisoners rises from their positions to get a better look at what is going on. Panic steadily growing amongst the men surrounding me, but another clap of thunder followed by more lightning blocks out the rest of the conversation that begins to circulate between them. In the seconds that mother nature provides me with some much-needed light, I can also see them and the fear that not one of us will admit to written in each war weary expression, waiting for me to say or do something.  


"You heard me, Charlie. Now let the kid go." I repeat, louder this time, responding to the unrest that I feel radiating from those closest to me, hoping to dampen it some, though I have my doubts that is going to be possible at this point.  


The scene before and around me seemed to be unfolding in slow motion, only adding to the surreal effect of the whole situation and the less than cooperative nature of my limbs. Somehow though I managed to manoeuvre through the small group as I spoke, doing my best not to meet any of their eyes as I make my way from the rear to the forefront of the gathered men. But still there is no response from the departing V C. Not the least amount of interest shown to any of our questions or the slightest hesitation slowing their steady pace, whereas my own steps are less sure and the man they were dragging along with them, just appeared too afraid to do anything but what he's told.  


It had only been minutes ago that the guards had come for me, I reflect, attempting to calm myself as I force my body to keep moving forward, trying to understand how I could have possibly misjudged them and the Commander as much as I so obviously have. The sound of anxious voices at my rear and the light show going on outside not helping my efforts in the least.  


I knew from the moment I saw the guards enter the hut that Tran had sent them for me, that he had tired of waiting for me as I had known he would sooner or later when I decided not to go to him tonight. Still I recall being taken back by their appearance even if in hindsight I realize I should never be surprised by anything that relates to the Commander. It had been months since an escort had been necessary and in truth I never dreamed that after going to him for so long under my own steam, that my telling his men to go fuck themselves would have lead them to choose another to take in my place. That was exactly what was happening though, and I was damned if I knew how to stop what my lack of forethought had set in motion. What I could easily imagine being a fate worse than anything Marsh has ever thought possible if I didn't find a way to stop the men who held him captive from leaving with him now.  


This was my mistake; not his, my conscience reminds me with each unsteady step I take. My fault for simply not doing what I knew was expected of me in the first place. For thinking I was more than I am and for forgetting that no matter the changes that had occurred since my arrival here, I have no rights, no say in whether I spend every night servicing the Commander or not.  


My relationship with the man who runs this camp may make me many things in the eyes of those who don't understand the methods I have used to assure that I survive my time here. _God_ , I don't understand them myself sometimes, but no matter what I have become, I wasn't about to start letting anyone else pay for my errors in judgment anytime soon. There would be no point in going on if I allowed that to happen, not enough reasons in this god-forsaken world to live a life that had cost others what it had already cost me. The thought of what that might actually mean to my continued survival sends a shudder of foreboding through my entire body but I don't let myself dwell on the possibilities for very long. Shame and regret have been my constant companions for so long that I know that adding another won't make a hell of lot difference in the end.  


I halt my footsteps on that thought, taking my cue from the trio that have my undivided attention as they finally reach and pause at the open doorway; still watching them from a position of uncertainty as I wait to see what they will do next.  


Thunder rolled again in the moments that passed, shaking the hut on its stumps and those within its thin walls; lightning once more providing a clear view of the men paused and ready to leave to the ones that stood by and watched expectantly. My heart stilling momentarily in my chest, and then once beating again, lodges itself firmly in my throat when I catch a fleeting glimpse of Marsh's fearful expression. _Jesus_ , had I ever looked that young or that completely terrified I wondered? He had no idea what awaited him, but something told me he had already resigned himself for the worst. But not if I could help it, my mind demanded and hopefully I assured him of that in the seconds our gazes had met briefly.  


Jeffrey's young face fell into shadows then and I could hear the others moving around behind me as soon as silence prevailed yet again, their murmured conversation, and the shuffle of feet as they moved in closer, forming a line on either side of me. Steve Thorn, our medic coming to stand at my right shoulder, adding his support also just as one of the V C turns to look back at us, his gun lifted and pointed not so much at myself, but at the man beside me.  


_Bastard_ I think, but its "You don't want him." I announce, taking a sidestep closer, my voice sounding remarkably calm as I purposely line myself up with the barrel of the rifle that I know is already cocked and ready to fire. Finding that I am not at all surprised by the depths to which the enemy will sink to or my own stupidity. The small voice of my conscience warring with the one that tells me I am out of my fucking mind for doing what I am. Asking me as I lock my knees to stop my legs from shaking if I was also planning on adding suicide to my list of failures also? And how much help did I think I would I be to anyone if I got myself killed?  


They were fair enough questions, both, and to date dying in this hellhole has never been a part of any plan I have come up with so far and I wasn't about to change things now. However, I also knew in what is left of my heart that I have no choice in this. None whatsoever. This was my mistake and only I could change what I knew would happen if I allowed the guards to take Marsh to Tran.  


But how on earth was I going to convince them that they too had made a mistake when it was clear they weren't interested? I asked myself as the moments stretched endlessly, my eyes fixed firmly on the man holding his weapon at the ready while he spoke with his companion. Surely, after everything they must have seen during my time here, didn't they realise that my insolence was between me and the Commander and no one else needed to be involved? Refusing them had been my doing and nothing to do with the young Private or any of the men who considered him a friend.  


"It's me you want." I inform them when my knees begin to feel as they are going to give way at any moment, and I can't stand the waiting a second longer. What the hell were they talking about anyway? Jesus Christ, I was standing right in front of them, I wasn't armed, and all they had to do was exchange Jeffrey for myself and get on with it.  


Still there was no response, no sign to say that the Commanders men had even heard me speak. The storm was drawing closer outside, the wind that would proceed its imminent arrival howling through the gaps in the hut walls and that of the open doorway. The effect it was having on those standing within the small space was clear as I watched them struggle under the force of the impending squall. I could still hear snippets of the conversation going on behind me as I continued my appraisal of the situation, so I could pretty much guarantee the guards had heard me and were simply dragging this out for their own sick entertainment.  


For what reasons the VC might find this sport, I had no idea, but I knew I couldn't cope with the uncertainty of waiting for much longer. It was my own foolishness that had begun this farce, brought the Commanders men here when it shouldn't have been necessary in the first place. My resolve to face him and whatever punishment he might decide to deal out because of tonight's delay was beginning to erode right along with the strength in my legs and it is with a fair amount of trepidation that I take another unsteady step forward.  


Steve Thorn's reappearance at my side an instant later, is to say in the least unexpected, under the circumstances and startles not only myself but also the men discussing their next move. Three sets of eyes stare at me through the darkness as his hand takes a firm hold of my arm. Whatever conversation they had been having halted at the sight of not one but the two us now moving forward again. 

"What are you doing, Lieutenant?" Thorn inquires between clenched teeth, his grip on my arm tightening as if he means to restrain me.  


"What I have to." I reply, not willing to exacerbate the situation further by grappling with him as I keep my focus forward.  


The VC are changing position next, ignoring us once more as they readjust themselves, so that they can leave, I realize to my renewed horror as I catch another glimpse of Marsh's terrified expression.  


"You're going to get yourself killed if you don't back off, you know that, don't you?" Thorn warns but I am not taking any notice of him.  


"Stop" I call out, fear gripping me tighter than the man holding my arm. My next words a plea to anyone that will listen. "You came for me, so fucking well take me and leave the bloody kid alone."  


Thunder and lightning sounded as one with the next beat of my heart and what I have feared most unfurled before my eyes.  


Moving with more ease than I had anticipated, all three men maneuver through the space, which up until seconds before had been at their rear. The VC not releasing their charge for even a moment as still restrained by Thorn I watch them descend the few steps to the outside and then disappear into the night.  


" _Jesus no_." I beg, trying to twist out of Thorn's grasp and take off after them at the same time. Steve won't turn me loose no matter how hard I try to release my arm and my struggles only seem to make him more determined to hold on to me. "I can't let them take him." I explain, aware that the others will overhear anything else I say.  


"It's too late for that, Lieutenant. There's nothing you can do now." He informs me, gesturing towards the empty entrance of the hut with his free hand as he advises me of something that I am well aware of. "You step one foot outside that door, and you'll be shot before you get ten feet."  


Steve maybe right and God, with what I recalled of his capacity for redemption and forgiveness might just have to consider this one last favour. But no matter what awaited me outside or what I might be faced with if I managed to make it to the other side of the compound, I wasn't about to let Marsh experience anything like the kind of treatment I had if I could at all help it. Whatever the cost I knew I simply couldn't live with the knowledge that I had caused this and not tried everything possible to stop it. 

"Let me go, Private." I demand at last, knowing that pulling rank maybe the only way to make him listen to me.  


The others have gathered around us in the seconds since the guard's departure and I almost trip over another of the men as I am set free and I back away from Thorn. He knows the reason for my desperation. But the other men don't and I am not about to stand here now and explain why I didn't go when Tran's men had come for me to begin with, or why I can't let Marsh spend even a moment alone with him.  


Thorn simply stares at me while I rub my arm where he had held me, his accusing glare penetrating the darkness of the hut interior as the others continue to discuss what had just happened. Each posing questions I can't answer and Thorn wouldn't dare to. Nothing needed to be said between us however. I already knew what he was thinking, that he would never understand no matter how hard I tried to explain why I did what I had tonight, and why now I had no choice other than to try and rectify that.  


"I'm going after them," I say to no one in particular. "Don't follow me," I add firmly, directing this last statement to Thorn and bringing all discussion on the matter to an end, I hoped.  


There was a possibility, albeit a remote one that my decision to follow the guards who had taken Marsh could be viewed by the men under my charge as irrational, suicidal under the circumstances, therefore disqualifying me from the rank I held here. Thankfully, they don't seem to realise that though, because without another word the group of men surrounding me separates slightly to let me through and I take the few steps necessary to reach the door of the hut without a backward glance to those watching me go.  


The wind howls at me as I stand on the threshold, whipping at my clothing and calling me out to face it and the monster that has beckoned me night after night since my internment here first began. The eye of the storm is not too far off now and the first drops of rain have finally begun to fall. Lightning once more illuminating the night sky so that I can see them silhouetted against the floodlight and the Commanders quarters across the compound. Marsh and the two guards who had taken him are nowhere to be seen now alluding to the fact that more time has passed than I realised, sending a new wave of fear through me as I raise my arms above my head and then step down to solid ground.  


It is only fifty yards I remind myself, as I begin my trek towards the light that I can also see burning within the Commanders quarters. My heart pounding loudly in my ears while I keep one eye on the guard at the top of the water tower as each uninterrupted step brings me closer to my goal. Large raindrops fall in slow succession on my face and at my feet as I keep myself focused on simply getting to the other side of the compound.  


There is a guard also posted outside the door of my destination, pacing slowly up and down the narrow porch. Why neither he nor the sentry on the tower have not challenged me even though I must be clearly visible to both of them I have no idea, only that my refusal tonight seems to have been somehow anticipated by those sent to collect me and I can't help wonder about Tran's other men as well. Each I am certain, would sooner shoot me dead than have to deal with my presence a day longer than they already have.  


The floodlight that has been tracking my path from the instant I set foot out of the hut brings on feelings akin to that of being an insect caught under a glass. That any moment now whatever interest I might have been to those watching me was going to end and I would be stopped dead in my tracks. Still I keep myself moving, fighting the wind that feels as if it is going to tear the flesh from my bones and trying not to think about what I will find when I come face to face with Commander Tran again. How I will explain myself and what I will have to do to see another sunrise here, the thought that I won't, and that this may be the last time I let him touch me weighing heavily on the fragments of my heart. And what of Marsh, had my own fear of the Commander and the short scuffle with Thorn already made me too late to save him? Had my own foolishness already cost him more of his innocence? And if it had, how was I ever going to face the others or ever think about going home or Beth again? The answer was simple; I wasn't, and for some reason finally accepting that after months of fighting to survive, that it just wasn't going to happen now made my steps less of a struggle somehow.  


The wind seemed to be dropping, as if to aid my footfalls just that little bit more and I manage to cross the remainder of the compound without incident, still at a loss to why I can. Raindrops, now falling more frequently on my face and hands, are no longer dried the second they fall by the wind ushering their arrival, their distinctive fragrance once more filling the air with a promise to cleanse. A promise that I know is never kept here and never will be. 

The guard on the porch stops his pacing and takes up his post in front of the Commanders door blocking my path to the man’s quarters as I draw closer to him. Finally challenging me as I reach the low step in front of him, his rifle lifts from his shoulder and is aimed at my chest as he addresses me. 

"Stop," he orders.  


"I want to see the Commander." I tell him, lowering my arms at last and wiping the rain from my face as I peer past him, endeavouring to see or hear anything that might be going on behind him. Deciding that if the bastard were going to shoot me, he would have done it by now.  


Thunder rolls and lightning once more splits the sky overhead while I wait to be admitted, sending a prayer towards the cosmos that I be allowed this one last chance to make amends before it's too late but ready to be refused entry all the same. The guard simply grins at my request, holding his ground while the storm continues to make its presence felt, his expression altering into a broader smile at the deathly silence left in its wake and the sound of raised voices coming from within the Commanders quarters.  


The Commanders unmistakable tenor reaches out to me even through the closed door, freezing me for a moment where I stand. His orders to hold him down sounds all too familiar but Jeffrey's answering protests brings an end to my patience, and perhaps the last of my common sense to an all-time low as I manage to unglue myself and rush the man obstructing my path.  


_No_ , is the only word I manage before the butt of his rifle cracks the back of my skull open and I crumple under the impact. Stars dance behind my eyes, but I don't dare close them. Nor do I allow the bile in my churning stomach to rise any higher than my throat as I stare down at the timber deck that I am now kneeling on, feeling its weathered texture with the tips of my fingers as I clench and unclench my fists. Sucking in a breath I fight the urge to strike out at the man standing over me, to not tear the weapon from his hands and ram it down his throat as I slowly climb to my feet again.  


Staggering slightly, my vision clouding, I draw myself up and my shoulders back as far as I am physically able. My head feels as if it is ready to explode but all the man who has struck me can do, is grin at my efforts while I concentrate on not passing out or following through with any of the things I would like to do to him. Lousy bastard I think, but I'm not going to let him stop me. "I want to see the Commander," I repeat, raising my voice to match those still coming from inside and ensuring their attention. It works too, because not another moment passes before the door behind the guard swings open and I am met with yet one more of the Commanders men. Armed also, he regards me with a disdain similar to his companion. 

"The Commander is waiting for me," I tell him, hoping I am right, and that Tran won't refuse to see me.  


"Let the Lieutenant in." The Commander informs his men from inside and both respond immediately to the clear order, stepping aside to let me pass. The guard posted outside, nudging me forward with the weapon he had used to strike me, until I am standing before the man himself and the door closes behind me with an eerie finality to it.  


I am not sure what I thought I would find, but nothing I guess would have prepared me for the sight of Jeffrey in his current position, spread out on the Commander's desk as if he was about to made a meal of. He has been beaten, that much is clear, most of his clothing is still intact but the poor kid appears as confused as he does terrified. A sight that only serves to remind me of the confusion I still feel over my own situation with the man who I know from experience will rape him without mercy just to spite me if I don't do something to stop him from doing so.  


"You wanted to see me, Commander," I say, dragging my eyes away from Jeffrey. Wishing as I do that there was some way, I could accomplish what I need to do without having him a party to it. Although I would like to think I can convince Tran to take me instead of the kid, I also knew it was not in his nature to let any opportunity to humiliate me or any of the other men here to go by so easily.  


I try not to think about what the Commander will do to me, or what Marsh may be forced to witness if I can't figure out a way to persuade Tran that he is not needed here. But I assure myself as I stand and wait for him to respond to me, whatever punishment he decides to deliver; this will be the last time he takes me without a fight.  


My head hurts like hell but my vision has thankfully cleared in the last few minutes. Proof of tonight's planned activities lay spread out around the room that also doubles as his office and I cast my eyes over the scene that has been set. The Commanders sleeping quarters were in fact positioned in a small alcove behind where I presently stand, partitioned off by a curtain that covered the area from view, but it was always here that his nighttime practices took place. The large cast iron tub he uses to bathe in sat already filled at the far end of the room, steam rising from the water that had been heated for the purpose and making the whole place feel like a Chang Hoi laundry. I have lost track of the amount of times we have shared the hot water that the Commander has his men heat for his bath. Or how many times he had insisted that after he had finished with me, we sit together and talk.  


Shame over many of the exchanges that must now count in the hundreds remind me that the Commander still hasn't answered me and even though I am trying not to look at him or the man pinned beneath him I force myself to do so now. Marsh, I am very relieved to note has had enough good sense to stay quiet since my arrival. Tran's men stand at the ready, one behind me and another just off to the side of where the Commander has Marsh trapped and as usual they seem to know exactly what is expected of them without being told. Because no sooner does the Commander meet my eyes and move away from Marsh, the guard standing closest is covering the kid with his rifle and motioning for him to stand also. 

I wait until Jeffrey has gained his footing again, nodding at him briefly and hopefully communicating to him to hold tight, that I will deal with the Commander before I shift my gaze to that of the man in question. He hasn't, as I had half expected he would, set upon me immediately. Instead he seems to be taking his time to decide what he is going to do next and I find that I am already bracing myself against what I know is inevitable.  


The Commander stares at me for a moment, looking me up and down and I shiver slightly under his intense scrutiny, doing my best not to show the fear or the other feelings that his open appraisal invokes in me. Knowing that the longer he takes the more detailed the punishment he decides on will be.  


Finally, he speaks, his voice rising above the sound of heavy rain falling on the roof sheltering us all from the storm currently raging outside. "You are late, Lieutenant." He states plainly, his eyes once more skirting back towards where Marsh is now standing flanked by one of his men.  


My stomach turns as I watch him. I can only imagine what explanation his men have given him to explain my lack of appearance earlier, but I can clearly picture his reaction to the sight of Jeffrey being delivered to him. Private Jeffrey Marsh was by anyone's standards attractive; he was also, but only just, young enough to be my son.  


"Yes," I say to the Commander, attempting to draw his eyes once more. I knew very well the effect they could have on a man no matter the amount of times I try to tell myself it's more than the way he looks at me that makes me feel the way I do. I still can't decide whether I think the guards somehow planned this or not only that when they decided to take Jeffrey in place of myself, they had chosen perhaps the most vulnerable of all the men who were imprisoned here with me. Jeffrey's only crimes, other than the fact that he had been caught by the enemy and placed under my command instead of some other poor schmuck, were his good looks and his friendship with me. Things that only a blind man could not see, and which renews my feelings of responsibility towards him. "I'm sorry." I add when Tran keeps his eyes fixed on Jeffrey and it becomes apparent that the younger man doesn't realise that the only way to stop the Commander's gaze from stripping him all the way down to his very soul was to not look at him.  


Despite the fact that Marsh is a soldier, trained in all manner of warfare and its many tactic it is painfully clear he hasn't a clue just what the Commander is capable of, or what is happening here. But it's not something they teach you about I remind myself, knowing how long it had taken me to understand what my life had come down to when I was first brought here. A part of me is grateful that Jeffrey hasn't figured out what the Commander has in mind just yet, but I also knew that was not a feeling that was going to last much longer.  


The Commander's head bows slightly before he turns back to me. My apology noted, yet acceptance of it seems to be out of the question. Whatever he had been thinking about Jeffrey put aside for the time being. Or maybe not. I don't doubt that he is still deciding what he will do with me and even though I would rather not think about it now that I am face to face with him, I cannot help but wonder what that will be. The bathtub generally meant that he would expect me to bathe him first and then join him in it, but he almost seems disinterested in me now, regarding me with an air of detachment that only adds to my anxiety.  


I shift uneasily where I stand, returning the Commanders gaze for the time he demands it and then simply watching him as he turns his attention to the man behind me. Knowing as I observe the silent exchange by the only means available to me, that time was running out for me with each moment that passed. That very soon the Commander will decide that I may or may not be able to do something about. It would be so much easier if he would just let Jeffrey go I think, glancing in his direction briefly and then back at the man who holds both our fates in his hands. I can handle Tran and the guards but with the kid here too, my chances of sparing him or myself any further indignities, slipped down lower than the crap at the bottom of the latrine.  


I lock my knees on that thought, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders to try and portray a more confident appearance for Marsh's sake, refusing to let myself succumb to the thoughts that once started, won't seem to stop formulating into something that almost feels like a premonition.  


The Commander finishes with the guard, sending whatever signals he deemed necessary to the man quicker than I have realized and then just as quickly turns away again, his gaze once more lingering on Jeffrey as he walks across the room to the cabinet on the other side. His interest now it seems on fixing himself a drink.  


The distance between the Commander and I enables me to breathe a little more freely, but it doesn't stop the feeling that I already know what he is planning to do. The way he keeps looking at Marsh is making my skin crawl and I just know I have to get him out of here, as far away from Tran as I possibly can.  


For the moment though, I watch him as I have so many times in the past, fill the small bowl he has chosen from the cabinet he uses to house his liquor, swallow the contents and then immediately pour himself another drink. The second has been offered to me on occasions and I have learnt over time never to refuse whatever he gives me. He turns around again as soon as he has replaced the bottle he has used to pour his drink from, holding the freshly filled bowl in his hand, not offering it to me, but simply carrying it with him to the centre of room. His eyes once again drifting between Marsh and myself as he slowly turns the small vessel in his hands several times before he speaks.  


"I don't like to be kept waiting, Lieutenant." He informs me, almost offhandedly I think as I continue to watch him, his focus more on Jeffrey than myself now.  


"I know that, Commander. I'm sorry." I reply, pulling my shoulders back a little more. Knowing not to offer him any excuse for my earlier behaviour until I find out what his men have told him. That to be caught in a lie would be worse in the long run.  


"Are you, Lieutenant?" The Commander inquires, his tone becoming more intense as he finally casts his gaze in my direction.  


"Yes, Commander." I tell him, imploring that he believes me, though I have the distinct feeling that he will make me prove my regret before he is completely satisfied.  


It's difficult to say from one moment to the next just what form of retribution the Commander will expect for any indiscretion. Months of trying to gauge his different moods have taught me that he is not to be underestimated, ever. But the thought that tonight I had done just that, only proves how little I have learnt.  


All I can do now is wait, standing at attention, not daring to even glance at Marsh to see how he's faring while Tran appears to consider what I have said. Thinking how much between us has changed over this last week alone, and how my attempts tonight to take back a little of what I felt I had earned through my continued cooperation of his demands has only reinforced my position here. Proving me to be the fool I have been all the months I have tried to hold on, to keep myself going.  


The Commander seems intent and it is difficult to hold still, the tension in the room growing to wrap tightly around my chest, making it harder and harder to breathe as he continues to scrutinize me with his dark damning eyes. Very slowly it seems, he nods at my answer, offering me a small smile before he lifts his gaze to the man, I know is still standing behind me. My heart skipping a beat and then sinking to the pit of my stomach at the sound of the bolt on his rifle being slid into place. Sweet Jesus, my mind pleads as the weapon then makes itself felt, prodding me in the middle of my back until I drop to my knees, adopting the position that I know is now required of me by lacing my fingers behind my head.  


"Please, Commander," I say before I realise that the words have escaped. "It will never happen again," I add a moment later as he approaches me, looming over me to caress the side of my face with his free hand. The barrel of the rifle behind me once again nudging my back and then slowly sliding up my spine to settle just below my clasped hands as Tran touches me with such gentleness it is almost possible to forget that there is a gun aimed at the base of my skull.  


"I give you my word," I tell the man whose nearness alone fills each of my senses, trying not to succumb to the feel of his hands on me, or the thoughts they inspire. I don't want to die but I know this can't go on either. I made a mistake tonight and now it's time to pay the consequences. I need more time though, just a little while longer to see the kid safe.  


The look in Tran's eyes has always been compelling, dangerous I remind myself as he leans in closer. Aware that I should look away, but I am too afraid to move let alone resist him. "Please." I whisper as he tilts his head to one side as if to study me further, his warm breath mingling with my own.  


"Lieutenant?"  


Marsh's first word since my arrival couldn't have come at a worse time, not that I thought for a moment that anyone could forget he was there, only that while I held the Commander's attention it meant he was leaving the kid alone.  


The fingers lightly tracing my cheek withdraw at the single word and so does the Commander, turning away from me to focus on the young man watching us. The expression on Jeffrey's face is one of confusion mixed with a healthy dose of horror. My heart reaches out to him as the other guard quickly restrains him, struggling though it is a pointless exercise, he can't get away. It is obvious he still doesn't understand why he is here. Unfortunately, the time he has been spared that particular information has finally come to a screeching halt and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it.  


The rain has stopped in the last few minutes and the sound of water running through the makeshift down-pipe outside continues to mask the noise usually made by the Commander's boots on the hard timber floor I am kneeling on. His strides seeming unnaturally long from my vantage-point as I watch him cross the short distance separating me from Marsh, backhanding the kid with his empty hand and sending him reeling under the impact only to be caught by the guard insisting he stand.  


Blood pours from Marsh's abused mouth within seconds of the attack. The sight of it added to the other injuries he sustained before I got past the man, I am certain is still posted outside, sending a shudder of sympathy through me. I find that I am cringing as the Commander only seems to be amused by the same sight, touching his fingers to the kids swelling lips and spreading the blood in some obscene pattern over the wounded area before he leans forward to claim Jeffrey's mouth with his own.  


Something inside me snaps but there is no time to say what it is exactly. "Tran," I shout. "Leave him alone." I warn. The rifle at my head jarring me forward with the last. I don't fall though, I'm not sure how but I manage to hold myself up, my eyes fixed on the scene before me as the guard behind me swears a warning of his own. I ignore it; my only concern is stopping the Commander before he goes any further. Or before Jeffrey does something that I know will ultimately end in him getting hurt more than he is already. He struggles under the men holding him in place, the Commander ravaging his mouth and the other guard making sure he doesn't escape. I try to get up, my heart beating so fast I can hardly see straight, my legs refusing to cooperate while I am held down by a single hand on my shoulder until finally Tran steps back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  


Why the man behind me has not used his weapon I don't know, but I don't care either. Understanding seems to have dawned on Jeffrey in one mind-jolting scream; horror and revulsion twisting his young face into something not quite capable of rational thought, because no sooner has the Commander released him he is fighting like a man possessed. Screaming and swinging blindly, only to be jerked back before he can actually make contact with the man who simply watches his efforts from a safer distance and then gaining himself a sickening crack to the back of his head for his troubles. The V C inflicting the blow, laying his boot into Jeffrey's side as soon as the kid buckles and then collapses under the assault.  


"For _God sake_ leave him alone," I call out, leaning forward this time to avoid any similar treatment from the guard covering me. "He hasn't done anything. It's me you want." I add casting my eyes back to Tran. "Let him go, please just let him go." I beg, a part of me knowing that this is what he wants from me. To see me as I am now, on my knees, begging him for every breath I am allowed to take in this God forsaken place, to be at his mercy every minute of each stinking day.  


Whether Tran is satisfied or not with my pleas I don't wait to find out. Jeffrey groans and my attention, diverted momentarily, shifts back to the young man curling himself into a ball on the floor near the Commander's desk, his hands finally coming up to protect his head as the man beating him decides he has had enough and bends to drag him back to his feet again.  


"My men tell me this is Private Marsh, Lieutenant," The Commander informs me the moment Jeffrey is more or less standing.  


"Yes," I pant, my focus still on Jeffrey. His eyes when he lifts his head are bright, his face smeared with his own blood and I can't help wonder about the times I had stood where he is standing now. Held up by one of Tran's men just so he could beat me down again and watch me fall.  


"He is one of your men, Lieutenant?" Tran inquires and I force myself to face him this time, too heartsick to look at Jeffrey any longer, watching as the Commander finally swallows the drink in his hand before I answer.  


"He is under my charge, Commander. My responsibility while he remains here." I tell him, feeling the weight of each and every one of my words as they are spoken. Why I am being asked questions that I am certain Tran already has the answers to, I have no idea. I will tell him what he wants to know though, hoping that while he is talking, he is less likely to be touching either Jeffrey or me.  


With his second drink of the night now finished I expect the Commander to return the bowl he uses to the cabinet without further interest being shown in the foul concoction he calls alcohol. Tonight, it appears he has other ideas however and the careful refilling of the bowl once more starts my mind turning over the reasons for yet another change to his routine. Reasons that slowly begin to make themselves evident I realise, as I am motioned to stand and the bowl is then placed on the edge of the Commanders desk along with a hand rolled cigarette he has removed from the small box he keeps in one of his desk drawers.  


My arms ache and my knees feel more than a little worse for wear, but even with my physical discomfort aside I still found it difficult to stand up. Fear that the Commander would turn again on Jeffrey or me at any moment not allowing me to enjoy what I knew was at best, only going to be a very short reprieve. His questions and interest in Jeffrey leading me to think he still hadn't finished with the poor kid. As in the past what he had arranged on his desk was clearly meant as payment for services to be performed or rendered, though I am unclear whom he expects those services to be provided by.  


I glance back at Jeffrey again, promising myself that it won't be him who collects what has been laid out for when Tran is truly satisfied, rubbing my arms to aid circulation and trying to catch his eyes when he is approached once more; willing him to look at me and not the Commander. He appears lost now, bewildered and on the verge of tears I think, as the fresh wounds on his face are inspected, flinching even though I can see he is trying not to, as his head is turned toward the light and his swollen lips are traced by the man who had caused the initial injury. The guard holding him still has a firm grasp on his upper arm, but it almost appears that it is the only thing from stopping him from falling down as the Commander examines him. As if standing under the circumstances was too much for him and that the feel of the hands currently touching him or the lips that hovered so close to his own were too loathsome to endure. I knew how he felt, and right now I would give anything to tell him so. It's never going to happen though. The Commander maybe enjoying this, but it was clear that Jeffrey had reached his limit.  


"The Private doesn't need to be here." I say to Tran, speaking out of turn and at the same time purposely inviting his wrath.  


Gaining the Commanders attention has never been difficult but as I have been reminded tonight, judging his reaction is a completely different story. He doesn't turn to me as I had anticipated he would, his interest still very much on Jeffery, his hands roaming freely over the kid's chest even as he speaks.  


"He is your friend, Lieutenant?"  


It is more a statement than a question. A ploy I decide. To get me to admit that I care about the man he is molesting for no other reason than to teach me a lesson. But it's the last time I remind myself as I watch the Commanders hands travel back up to the straining muscles on Jeffrey's neck and shoulders, the very last time he teaches me anything. I have already made my peace with whatever maker has seen fit to keep me alive this long. My dream of going home is not something I can even enjoy anymore. Like the nightmare I have been living day and night for months now, home is a place I can't contemplate anymore. Won't let myself think about because I know that it will only be more shame that welcomes me if I do. There is no comfort to be found in my memories, not when they are all I have left and they only serve to remind me of what I have lost. I will do what the Commander demands for the boys' sake but then as we all have to do eventually, he will have to learn to take care of himself.  


"He is one of my men and there is no reason for him to be here any longer." I tell the Commander when he finally turns toward me. "Your men made a mistake when they took him from the hut. You have me now, so let him go and you can deal with me anyway you want."  


Thunder rumbled in the distance as the Commander regarded me, the last remnants of the storm that had come and gone while he had indulged his sick game, but it was such a low ominous sound now that it almost seemed like final acceptance of my decision.  


"Yes, Lieutenant. I will deal with you," The Commander states coldly. As if there was any doubt I think. "But the Private stays." He amends; releasing Jeffrey at last and then just as quickly as he has discarded the kid he crosses the room once more to stand toe to toe with me.  


I am not surprised that he is not going to spare Private Marsh a front row view of just how I believe he intends to deal with me and I can pretty much guarantee that shows in my face. The Commander appears disappointed however and for a moment he simply stares at me. Waiting I suspect for me to argue with him. To beg perhaps and if I thought that would make him change his mind then I would do it without hesitation. If there was any way at all to get him to let Jeffrey go I would try it, but I know there is not.  


"I need help with my bath, Lieutenant," Tran says at last.  
A bargain struck and my fate, if it hadn't already been sealed prior to this moment, certainly was now.  


I nod, accepting the terms given. "Yes, Commander," I answer, knowing just what was expected of me and not wanting to put this off any longer.  


An audience to my disgrace is not something I have ever wanted to think about, even though from the very moment I was admitted here tonight, a part of me had known that was exactly what was going to happen. It is also something I try to block from my mind as I force myself to move before the guard standing behind me can force me to follow the Commander to the side of the bathtub.  


But if I had thought that Jeffrey was too far-gone to put up any kind of an argument I was mistaken. "Lieutenant?" He questions as I take up my place beside the Commander. 

"What's going on?" He wants to know, his voice breaking up under the strain and confusion I can imagine he feels by just being here. The man waiting for me is obviously already aroused and he seems to have no qualms about who knows it now.  


"It's okay." I tell the kid, not wanting to think about him, let alone look at him right now as I allow the Commander to pull me to him and I feel the size of him clearly outlined through thin fabric of his trousers. The room feels suddenly muggier than before, the passing storm leaving the familiar humidity in the still air of the Tran's small quarters. I am sweating already and whether it is from fear or the heat it doesn't matter I tell myself; nothing matters any more. I swallow hard as the Commander rubs himself against me, his hands moving over me to settle in their usual position on my hips, my stomach turning as I begin the process of undressing him. My heart rate rising rapidly despite my efforts to try and slow it down, to stay calm and to just keep myself going.  


I don't want to feel or to think about anything but getting this over with, unfortunately, contrary to what I have hoped for, Marsh has other ideas. The two guards hold their position for the most part but the kid can't seem to understand that there is nothing that can change what our captor has been intent on doing all along or that will force me to waver from the path I have chosen. I can hear him struggling; his protests to be set loose and for me to answer him growing in frequency and volume, pulling at me, drawing me back to him even though I try to ignore the pleading in voice. But with him standing only a few feet away it's impossible not to hear him, to keep pretending what I am doing is better than the alternative and it is not long before my hands start to shake, faltering as I work on the fastenings of the Commanders shirt. I stop for a moment, just holding on to the fabric in my hands. Wishing as I close my eyes briefly for a miracle of sorts to give me strength and then opening them again as I note movement behind me by the other VC.  


I cringe at the warning given to Jeffrey to shut up, the sounds of him being struck again and the scuffle that breaks out at his refusal to comply. I don't look but I can hear the kid losing it completely as he continues to fight for what I know is out of the question for him at this point. I want to tell him to just let this happen, that it will be okay but I know it's all a lie. There is only one way to achieve freedom from this hell and as soon as I finish here I am going to find it.  


I try to work as quickly as I can to divest the Commander of his uniform and boots but by the time I have managed it Jeffrey's pleas are constant, screaming at the top of his lungs for the guards to let him go and for me to stop what I am doing. The sound of his voice is a torture I hadn't planned on. Tearing at the remaining fragments of my heart until I don't feel that I can last much longer. If Tran senses the effect the kids presence is having on me he allows me no quarter because of it, no chance to go back on our agreement, ordering me remove my own clothing as soon as he stands naked before me. Like so many things I have no choice than to obey him this last time. Shedding the tattered remains of my own uniform, I don't look anywhere but directly at the Commander. I can feel the eyes of the others on me, hear every shrilled word from Jeffrey and imagine the expressions of the two V C while I do as I am instructed, removing and then dropping my shirt and trousers where I stand.  


The Commanders hands take hold of my own as soon as I have finished undressing, once more pulling me to him. His cock is hard and hot against my flesh and the feel of him is as always, terrifying, maddening in how it rouses me to compliance. I am trembling almost uncontrollably now but I do not resist. Not any of it, as I am touched, manipulated in ways that can't be ignored. My body responding of its own accord as it has for months and I close my eyes, resting while I can as the man who should have killed me the very first day we met takes his time to provide a suitable display for those watching us. My stomach churns and knots but I return his kisses when they are sought, force myself to trace his face as he traces the muscles on my back, his hands moving to cup my ass, kneading and stroking me until I am completely hard.  


It is perhaps the ultimate disgrace, that I am unable to stave off the reaction I have to Sun Lee Tran and the most damning of all his cruelty toward me I think as he finally releases me, leaving me exposed as I am to all those who can see me now.  


The moments that pass when the Commander steps back briefly to admire his handy work are perhaps the longest of my entire wasted life. His eyes along with those of the other men witnessing my humiliation stripping away the last threads of my dignity.  


"Get in," he orders, a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth as he gestures to the bathtub beside us and I don't hesitate, relief not far off I realize.  


It's almost over I tell myself as I step over the high side of the tub. The water is still warm and I sink into its depths quickly, covering myself but not before my eyes betray me, drifting with a mind of their own to the youngest member of my onlookers. Jeffrey's gaze meets my own for less than a second but it is long enough to read the horror written in his. He is still being held by one of the guards, his arm twisting unnaturally as he continually searches for a way to escape the V C's grasp, his cries for release, ignored.  


I turn away, utterly damned, wishing I had not seen what I had, could not hear what I can. But none of it matters now I tell myself, it will all be over very soon. I draw my knees up, closing my eyes again as I wrap my arms around my legs, shivering despite the warmth of the bath water. The Commander joins me as soon as I am seated. His hands gliding over my shoulders and the curve of my back while he makes himself comfortable behind me. This part won't last long, it never does, I remind myself when he pulls me to his chest and I am forced to open my eyes and raise my head again. I can feel the steel heat of his cock pressing against my backside; his arousal seemingly growing with each moment that passes. 

"On your knees, Lieutenant" He whispers close to my ear, his hands dropping beneath the water to my hips, urging me forward.  


The tub is old, worn but reasonably large and I move with a practiced ease within its confines and into the necessary position, bracing myself against the rim for the intrusion that I know will follow soon enough. Bowing my head once more between my arms to try and settle myself some. To try to block out the sounds and heat surrounding me. The waiting for it to happen is probably worse than the actual penetration. But the blunt head of the Commanders cock forcing entry perhaps a split second after I admit that fact makes me wonder at my own observations. Maybe it's because I try and make myself forget each time and that is why I think there is always something worse than this. I am wrong, but I am wrong about a lot things I remind myself, so what makes me think that trying to convince myself this doesn't feel like I am being torn apart each time is any different.  


The Commander groans behind me, gripping my hips so hard it feels like he is going to break something. Swearing at me to lift my head and to straighten my back, not allowing me time to comply or to adjust to his size as he buries himself completely and then begins to thrust. 

The pain is indescribable, but I don't make sound, I won't, I tell myself. He has all that he's taking and there will be no more soon. Just finish I urge silently, just hurry and let this be over with. Dear God. please let me be free at last. I squeeze my eyes closed as I try and concentrate on breathing slowly, repeating my plea to myself to give me something else to think about. Something to make the minutes pass, searching as the Commander grunts and pants for a place within my own mind where I don't have to hear or feel anything ever again. 

There is such a place and why after so long it is possible for me to go there while my torment continues, I don't know. But there is no sound, no heat any longer. Emptiness suddenly replaces the fullness invading my body, giving me the impression of weightlessness, of flying somehow. Whisking me away from the fear and pain but to where I am uncertain. Awareness is subjective to state of mind and I know I am on edge, release is all I want, all I think about but other thoughts creep unbidden to the forefront of my consciousness, filling me with a new kind of dread.  


Sound returns though the absence of Jeffrey's voice is the first thing I note. My body is clad now; covered from head to toe and the room, once heated beyond comfortable levels is strangely cold. Stark and sterile I realise as my eyes finally focus, and I am faced with a man I do not recognize but I am certain that I should. 

The End.


End file.
